Rigor Mortis
by Chill
Summary: Albert gets confused


Hey people! Look, sorry about not writing for a while but in the words of the great Albert 'I simply can't be buggered.':)  
  
The prince was worried. Admittedly, he was usually worried but this time he had something to be worried about, his father had decided to go back to the old ways and choose a Grand Visier* and suddenly a tall man with a face of a rat had turned up. The king thought he was perfect.  
The prince's name was Shah-Li-Gah-Fooh-Tah-Keh-Nohon the eighty-second, son of Shah-Li-Gah-Fooh-Tah-Keh-Nohon the eight-first. His friends called him Rubber, they always do.  
He began his daily walk to the Garden on a Thousand Hedges where he was to bathe in the Holy Swamp of Marzipan. He had never quite understood why he had to get clean in a place that sounded like a packet of almonds well past their sell-be-date, but there you have it. He was just rounding the Sacred Statue of The Sunflowers On A Rainy Day when he heard the scream. He swivelled around and found a blade connecting with his jugular.  
"Oh sh-" he started and died, because it is not propper for a prince to swear in the Garden of Eternally Crimson Bricks.  
  
ALBERT, COME. WE HAVE BUSINESS.  
"You go, I'll stay here."  
Death paused and then said PARDON?  
Albert appeared in the doorway, "Don't feel like it today."  
WHY NOT? ARE YOU ILL?  
"In this place? No time to be ill in."  
Strictly speaking, Albert was completely in the right; at Death's abode (or rather, as he'd taken to calling it in the last few days, THE COTTAGE) many things existed purely because Death had created them. But there were things that Death just couldn't seem to grasp like the concept of time. Another was plumbing.  
Death considered this a while and then tried again.  
THEN IF NOTHING AILS YOU, WE'D BEST BE GOING. A PRINCE HAS DIED IN JOS-ALLNIY-TEHKA-WEH.  
"Look, I jus' told ya master, I simply can't be buggered so-"  
GET ON THE HORSE NOW ALBERT!  
Albert swayed slightly. Death didn't so much speak to you as to your brain, thus there was no need for all that mucky business with the ears and being shouted at by him was much the same as being at a party with a bad headache although not nearly so pleasent.  
He recovered just enough to say "'s m'st'r" and slumped forward.  
  
They rode through the endless*** night in silence: Albert was sulking and Death was never that good at conversation in the first place. When they touched down,the corpse was there, the prince was there but something was missing.  
Albert was first to speak, or rather because he was in a bad mood, first to move.  
He made for the spirit hands outstreched for neck, "Alright you little bugger, I'm in a mean mood so you gonna tell me watchoo've done wiv it, right?"  
UMM...  
"And you!" Albert swivelled round, "You can stay of this, right? Or d'you wanna do everything around here, eh? Let Albert watch while I do it all, is that it?" Albert became aware that something wasn't right and turned towards Shah-Li-Gah-Fooh-Tah-Keh-Nohon the eighty-second. He lookd at him. He looked again. He gaped. The prince, as well as missing a life line, was standing up, eyes closed, hands clasped to his sides and feat welded together. Albert looked desperately at Death.  
RIGOR MORTIS, explained Death.  
"Rig... but that happens to the bodies, I mean..." Albert fell silent in way of demanding an explanation.  
Death sighed, or did so as much as seven foot skeleton is able to which is not a lot when you think about it.  
YOU KNOW HOW GODS ARE SAID TO PLAY GAMES WITH THE LIVES OF PEOPLE? Albert nodded mutely. SOMETIMES, THEY MAKE A FALSE MOVE.  
"You mean they cheat?"  
NO. I MEAN THEY MAKE A MOVE BY MISTAKE THAT WOULD BE CONSIDERED CHEATING IN ANY RULE BOOK. WHEN THIS HAPPENS, THEIR PIECE GOES INTO THE TRUE MEANING OF RIGOR MORTIS.  
"Which is?"  
Death looked at the prince. Albert followed hiw gaze,"Oh."  
Death shrugged bonily and Albert felt obliged to say something.  
"So what went wrong with this one? Acted like a cow?"  
Death shook his head. IF HE HAD DONE THAT THE RIGOR MORTIS WOULD HAVE SETTLED INTO HIS LIVE BODY, HE MUST HAVE BEEN KILLED.  
"So? Princes die, don't they, or have I heard wrong?" Albert tried sarcasm desperately just incase it would clarify the whole thing and make him say "Oh, of course! Well I shoulda guessed that, answer was right under me nose." It didn't so he didn't. "So, d'you know how he died?"  
OF COURSE.  
Albert arched his eyebrows in what he hoped was a prompting manner. The Grim Reaper failed to take the hint. "Bloody hell", muttered Albert, "How did the prince die and why has he got Rigged Merrits?"  
HE WAS KILLED BY AN ASSASSIN SENT BY SHAH-LI-GAH-FOOH-TAH-KEH-NOHON THE EIGHTY-FIRST'S GRAND VISIER IN ORDER TO KILL THE AFORE-MENTIONED SHAH-LI-GAH-FOOH-TAH-KEH-NOHON THE EIGHTY-FIRST. BUT THERE WAS A CELESTIAL MIX UP AND INSTEAD OF KILLING THE HIGHEST PERSON IN COMMAND, HE KILLED THE SECOND HIGHEST. THINGS ARE NOT MENT TO HAPPEN LIKE THAT, THEY ARE AGAINST THE LAWS OF NARRATIVE.  
"Oh."  
LET US BE GOING THEN.  
"But what about the prince?"  
Death turned his 180° to look at the subject in question. Then he clicked his fingers. COME ALBERT.  
"Huh?"  
COME!  
  
When they got back, Albert ordered a box of CMOT's Garantyd Head-Payn Rymover, Mayd by Truly Mystyk Monks yn a Mountayn Templ Somewere.  
  
"-it!****" said Shah-Li-Gah-Fooh-Tah-Keh-Nohon the eighty-second. He rubbed his head. What had just happened? Oh yes, he'd been walking along in the garden when he'd heard a scream from his father's quarters. Damn! He wasn't upset that his father was now perpetually late, he reasoned that Everyone That Wasn't Him Had To Die Someday. Unfortunately his father's death had put him on the throne and a Grand Visier could only be fired by he who hired him. On that day, he changed his policy to Everyone Had To Die Someday Including Himself.  
  
The spirit of Shah-Li-Gah-Fooh-Tah-Keh-Nohon the eighty-first got up and rubbed it's head. Not because his head hurt but because that was what you did when you fell over. You also said something, what was it now, oh yes.  
"Where am I?"  
DEAD.  
He looked around and Death swung the sword reserved for royalty.   
Albert grinned. He could cope with this.  
  
*Having a Grand Visier is not something that kings do because they're stupid, it actually goes back to the dawn of time when a primitive shaman asked someone to be his second in command** and then stuck the newly elected Ungh's head in a bowl of primordial soup to see what would happen. These days, we call that kind of thing an experiment.  
**Actually what he said was 'Unghanguurgh.' and banged the lucky caveman on the head with a rock, but that's just politics.  
***Apart from when it ended.  
****Every law has a loophole, narative is no exception. If you swear in the Garden of the Eternally Crimson Brick but have something happen in between you starting and finishing your curse, narative will overlook you.*****  
*****Or maybe the universe is just buggered. 


End file.
